I got a breast milk facial, NBD

Photograph: Courtesy of Mud Facial BarThis is not a breast milk facial, nor is this lady me, but those blue things are cooling globes used during every facial.

When word got out a couple weeks ago that new River North spa Mud Facial Bar will be offering breast milk facials, Chicago collectively said, "Ewwwww!"—but also privately was intrigued.

Look, I understand that breast milk dredges up weird feelings in people: It comes from a sexually attractive part of the body that we don't like to think of as also giving life to tiny humans. I remember being horrified, HORRIFIED, at finding a bottle of breast milk in my freezer that my friend had left after a party many years ago. I didn't even want to touch it (it might still be in my freezer).

But then I became a mom, and I realized breast milk is not at all gross (no more gross than cow's milk), and it's actually pretty amazing. Not only can it solely sustain the life of a baby, it also clears up a baby's rash, cuts and other skin ailments. Knowing this, and because I was the only person in the office willing to give this facial a try, I went to Mud Facial Bar yesterday with an open mind.

Mud positions itself as something like a nail salon, but for facials. You don't change into a robe, and the chairs in which you get the facials are all out in the open. Facials are $40, you can book online, and you're out in 30 minutes.

As my aesthetician prepared the carrot-tomato cleanser she deemed appropriate for my oily-yet-dry skin, she explained that breast milk is naturally anti-fungal and anti-bacterial, which makes it an excellent acne cure and a great treatment for irritated, sensitive skin. After the cleanser, she used steam to open my pores, then worked in a lavender-oatmeal exfoliator.

After that got mopped off, it was time for the breast milk mask (note: As we reported two weeks ago, the milk comes from a woman who's certified by an accredited milk bank). It's mixed with white kaolin clay, and it looks and feels like any other clay mask. I occasionally got a whiff of milk, but it wasn't overwhelming. After working in the clay with what looked like blue light bulbs (they're cold glass globes filled with antifreeze, and they felt incredible), she washed it off and applied toner, then a facial oil with rose and vitamin C.

My skin did feel exceptionally smooth for the rest of the day, and still does, but I can't say my skin looks any different. But that's the case with most skin treatments—you need to get it done more than once (Mud recommends every two weeks) to see real results.

Bottom line: Breast milk facials are not gross. What's gross is Botox, face lifts and other drastic things people do to their faces, but that's another topic for another day.